


Collide

by romanticalgirl



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:25:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3462584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey and Ian after the run in with Dr. Lishman outside The Fountain. 3.03</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collide

They end up at the abandoned buildings where Ian has his training set up and where Mickey does his target practice. They’re breathless from running, chasing each other in circles, laughing like maniacs.

Mickey leans against the wall and fishes his cigarettes out of his pocket. He lights up, watching Ian prowl around the room. They’re both caged animals, but right now Ian’s the only one acting like it. 

Mickey takes a long drag, holding the smoke as he offers the cigarette to Ian. He blows it out his nostrils as Ian takes a drag of his own. “How the fuck old is that guy?”

“Not that old.”

“He know how old you are?”

“He knows I’m old enough.”

“Bullshit.”

“Legal.”

Mickey smirks and shakes his head. “How long you been fucking him?”

“Not exactly sure how that’s your business.” Ian smirks at Mickey, but there’s something in his face that makes Mickey’s body tighten.

“You know why it’s my business, Gallagher.”

“Really don’t.”

Mickey drops the cigarette and grinds it into the concrete with the ball of his foot. He pushes off the wall and advances on Ian. “I need to show you?”

“Showing me isn’t really your thing.” Ian stands his ground, eyes moving up Mickey’s body.

“Seem to make a lot of fucking exceptions for you.”

“Yeah? What about all those guys you fucked in juvie? Not much of an exception to fuck me.”

Mickey stops directly in front of Ian, close enough that he can taste Ian’s breath. Mickey’s heart is beating faster as he watches the pulse in Ian’s throat. “Stop fucking him.”

Ian breaks into a smile that makes Mickey want to punch him as much as he wants Ian’s dick slamming into him. “Why should I do that?” Before Mickey can say anything, Ian’s grin gets impossibly wider. “Worried about the competition?”

“I’m not worried about shit.” Mickey shoves Ian back, grabbing at his shirt when Ian stumbles. Mickey jerks hard so Ian collides with him, chest to chest. “Seems to me Grandpa should be the one who’s worried.”

“Worried about what?”

“Well, if you hadn’t jumped in, I’d say getting his ass handed to him.”

“Maybe he likes that.” Ian shakes his head, trying not to laugh. His eyes stay locked on Mickey’s. “Which bothers you more? The fact that he thinks you’re gay or the fact that he thinks you’re my boyfriend?”

“How the fuck are they different?”

“Lots of gay people aren’t my boyfriend.” Ian’s smile is back, and Mickey’s fist clenches with the urge to smear it off his smug face.

“Fuck you, Gallagher.”

Ian grabs Mickey’s wrist and pulls him close. “Fuck you.” Ian turns them around and strides forward, forcing Mickey backward until he hits the wall. “That’s what you really want to say, isn’t it? What you want to ask?”

Ian kicks Mickey’s legs apart and slides between them, rolling his hips so that their dicks rub together. They’re both hard, both ready, and Mickey thrusts against Ian. “You need a fucking invitation?”

Ian slides his hand between them, and Mickey pushes his hips forward to give Ian access to his fly. It doesn’t take long before Ian’s got a hot grip around Mickey’s dick, squeezing with every upward stroke.

Mickey keeps his eyes open, watching as Ian’s lashes lower and he watches his hand move over Mickey’s dick. Ian looks hungry, like he could devour Mickey whole. Mickey tries to focus on Ian’s hand and now how much he’d be okay with that.

“Nobody takes you like I do, Gallagher.” The words come out on their own before Mickey can bite them back. The thought of Ian’s cock in that old fuck, in _anyone_ makes Mickey see red, makes him want to push Gallagher so the only thing he can focus on is Mickey. Mickey filling his sight. His mind. “Do they?”

Ian groans and buries his hot breath against Mickey’s neck.

“Think about my ass when you fuck them? Close your eyes and pretend it’s me?” It hits too close to home – the number of times Mickey’s jacked his dick with Ian’s face in his mind. Too many times. Every time. “You say my name, Gallagher?”

Ian groans again and jerks back, turning Mickey so he’s facing the wall. Mickey raises his hands in time to avoid full impact, but that gives Ian the chance to jerk Mickey’s pants down and grab his ass, spread his cheeks.

Ian thrusts two fingers in and Mickey’s head falls forward with the burn. He can take Ian. Was made for him. Ian’s fingers thrust and scissor until Mickey’s ass is aching, his dick leaking. “C’mon. Get in me. C’mon.”

Mickey’s fingers are raw from digging into the cement, flakes of dust falling off as Ian drags the head of his dick against Mickey, slick pre-come painting the ring of muscle before Ian pushes forward, his dick against Mickey, finally inside him.

It hurts in ways that make Mickey shake as Ian’s shallow thrusts seem to take forever before he’s deep inside Mickey, his sharp hipbones against Mickey’s ass.

“Fuck,” Mickey groans, resting his forehead against the wall. Ian doesn’t move for a long moment, one of his hands on the wall above Mickey and his other arm curved around Mickey’s waist. Mickey’s body feels like it’s on fire, and he trembles as he tries to stay still and wait for Ian to move.

Ian stays still, breathing against the back of Mickey’s neck, and Mickey can’t help shivering. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, dangerously close to asking Ian to move, to begging him. He flexes his ass, constricting around Ian. Ian groans and scrapes his teeth against Mickey’s neck.

Mickey’s dick twitches. His hand curls into a fist and he pounds it against the wall. Ian presses his forehead to the back of Mickey’s neck again as he pulls his hips back, snapping them forward before Mickey can even react.

Ian doesn’t stop after that, hips moving hard and fast. He keeps his arm around Mickey’s waist, not letting him move away. Mickey doesn’t know where Gallagher thinks he might be going, but Mickey’s okay with Ian not knowing that he’s not going anywhere, that he likes being bracketed by Ian, held in place.

Mickey drops his hand down to his dick, wrapping his fist around it. He starts to stroke but then Ian’s hand closes over Mickey’s and sets the pace, jerking Mickey so that every forward thrust of Ian’s hips has Mickey pushing into their joined fists.

“Christ,” Mickey grits out through his teeth. His voice sounds rough, wrecked. “My ass, isn’t it, Gallagher? My ass every time.”

Ian shudders roughly and Mickey feels it everywhere. He thrusts hard, burying himself in Mickey as he comes. The low sound he makes as he tightens his grip on Mickey’s hand and his dick has Mickey coming too. His ass tightening around Ian as his body jerks.

Ian’s breath is shaky as he exhales against Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey’s own chest is heaving, his body still clenched around Ian. They need to move, to break apart and keep their distance before someone is stupid enough to encroach on Mickey’s private shooting range, but Ian’s hand is still on Mickey’s, his dick still inside Mickey’s ass.

Ian licks his lips, the tip of his tongue brushing Mickey’s skin. Mickey’s cock gives another jerk, a jolt of something Mickey doesn’t recognize going down his spine. Ian breathes Mickey’s name and it feels like a kiss against Mickey’s skin. He stiffens and loosens his hand from around his dick, breaking Ian’s grip as well.

“Get off me.” It’s a threat and Ian nods, easing back. Mickey can’t help groaning as Ian slips out of him, and Mickey hates that he feels _empty_. “Gonna fuck him tonight?”

“Maybe.” Mickey senses Ian’s shrug but he focuses on doing up his jeans rather than on the hot flash that feels like an explosion in his chest. “What do you care?”

“Don’t.” Mickey turns and looks at Ian. “Fuck whoever you want.”

“I will. I do.”

“Guess that makes two of us then, huh?” Ian’s jaw tightens and Mickey can’t help but smile. Mickey may hate the feeling he gets at the thought of Ian fucking someone else, but he likes that Ian maybe feels it too.

“Yeah. I guess it does.” Ian starts to walk away as Mickey lights up another cigarette. There’s a distinct possibility that he’s pissed Ian off to the point that he actually is going to walk away, but Ian stops at the doorway and looks back. “You going to help me train this week?”

Mickey grins. “Wouldn’t miss it.”


End file.
